


It’s always and never the same

by Fatale (femme)



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-21
Updated: 2005-12-21
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale





	It’s always and never the same

It’s always and never the same  
(the gay thing)

WC: 1084  
Rating: PG 13  
Pairing: Fraser/Ray K

 

 

 

So this is what I've been reduced to, Ray thinks. Sitting in a car outside Fraser's apartment and watching him through the window like some kind of pervert.

Which is true, the pervert part, but it's not like he wants _Fraser_ to know that.

He hears the shriek of huge paws ruining his paint job before he sees anything, and then it's a flurry of white.

_Diefenbaker._

And in the middle of the blizzard, there's flannel.

Fraser leans down and taps the window - once, twice - and Ray sighs because he knows he's been caught and he's not sure how to tell Fraser that he's been following him for two weeks now. Besides, Fraser probably already knows and that's a plate of humiliation that Ray's not ready to be served.

Fraser opens his mouth to say something and Ray holds up a hand to cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, we need to talk. I get it."

"Actually, I was just about to ask you if you were hungry." Fraser inclines his head and Ray's so fucking glad it's dark outside because he doesn't want Fraser to see the way he blinks and swallows.

 

 

***

 

Fraser gets in the car and directs him to a small diner that Ray's probably eaten at more times than Fraser's licked dirt, but he doesn't say anything. His fingers are cold and he wishes he hadn't tossed the gloves Frannie gave him last year into the back of the closet.

 _Say something say something say something_ , his mind screams.

"So, uh, what have you been up to?"

 _Not something stupid_ , his mind replies.

"Oh?" Fraser says, as-casual-as-can-be, looking up from his menu. "I've been getting settled in."

The ugly blue-green formica makes Fraser's eyes look impossibly blue. "Oh?" he replies, even though he wants to jump across the table and demand to know why Fraser didn't call him to let him know he was back in town or something.

The fact that he's so calm leaves him feeling proud; two can do this polite Canadian thing.

Fraser seems to be flounder for words and Ray feels his smug bastard - o - meter go up another notch. He doesn't have a good reason, not one that won't make him look petty. _You left me in Canada to chase down the hand of Franklin by myself and so when I mysteriously came back to Chicago two months later, I told everyone I was back, but not you, Ray. Because you deserved it, you fucker._

Well, that's how it goes in Ray's head.

Instead, the waitress comes and asks for their orders. Fraser gets a burger and fries, hold the mayo and Ray asks for the same.

It's symbolic, in a way.

 

***

He stares very hard at his greasy fries, as if they have all the answers to the universe. He can think of a lot of reasons for Fraser to ignore him and foremost of those reasons is the gay thing.

The gay thing exists on the edges of his consciousness, too fuzzy to recall many details, but he remembers sensation: the feel of Fraser’s lips against his, the way the week-old stubble scraped his skin raw in places. The scratchy flannel beneath the flat of his hands and the warm skin beneath that.

It’s not like fights with Stella, where he files them away to take them back out someday when they hurt less, but rather, he told Fraser he was sick of pissing on icebergs and he liked Chicago a hell of a lot more than he’d ever thought. Besides, he missed Frannie and who would keep Huey and Louis in check?

They _needed_ him.

When he got home, he was disappointed that nothing had changed, that his apartment was still the same and that his answering machine only held one new message - which was a wrong number - and who leaves a message for a wrong number?

He sat down on his bed, felt sweat trickle down his face, he hadn’t taken off his winter clothes yet. Outside, something buzzed by his window and a neon light flickered, alternately casting the room into light and shadow.

The longer he sat there, there further his memories retreated until he slid the gloves off his hands and then unwound the scarf.

The boots and then the socks followed the others onto the floor.

Soon, he had a untidy pile in the middle of his bedroom and he couldn’t remember why he’d thought going to Canada had even been a good idea in the first place

 

***

 

“I meant to call,” Fraser is saying quietly when Ray‘s spaceship lands back on earth.

“No, you didn’t,” Ray says bluntly, miserably, because he _gets_ it now. This is all his fault; he broke up the duet and it’s up to him to put it back together.

“No, I didn’t,” Fraser admits.

“So I’ve been stalking you.” It’s not the best of apologies, but it’s an admission.

“So you have,” Fraser acknowledges. Of course he knew, of course he did.

Instead of humiliated when faced with the enormity of his assitude, he feels...okay. Fraser knew he’d been following him - and let him - and if Fraser’s okay with it, then so is he. It hadn’t occurred to him until just now, that he’d stalked Stella in the same way. The difference was, she’d never accepted it with a quiet incline of his head and a “so you have” - and that makes all the difference.

He feels what Fraser’s been telling him all this time by his continued silence: That it’s okay. That he’s been forgiven and now, it’s up to him.

“I was thinking of stalking you later, maybe tomorrow around eight? I’ll bring pizza.”

“If you wish, Ray.”

“I wish, Fraser.” Ray pours more ketchup on the side of his plate, giving his hand something to do so he doesn’t tap them nervously against the table, which he knows annoys Fraser .

“Perhaps you can even come in this time.”

If it weren’t for the hint of a smile on Fraser’s face, Ray’d think he was being mocked. “Yeah, I’m coming in,” he says and he feels himself let go of whatever the hell he’d been so worried about.

Immediately, he feels cocky again, more like himself, but something about the way Fraser’s peering up at him through dark eyelashes has got him thinking maybe he’s better this time around.

 

 

 

 

finis.

 


End file.
